


forged in orange flame

by ArgylePirateWD



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Getting Together, Getting Together During Pregnancy, Pregnancy, Single & sad A is pregnant with someone else's child. B wants them anyway.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-26 14:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20931470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/pseuds/ArgylePirateWD
Summary: "I don't like most people. But while I was out there, I kept thinking about you, and your kid, and I just...I'm not used to having someone I wanted to come home to, you know?"





	forged in orange flame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Soulstoned](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulstoned/gifts).

> _Female blacksmith/Female knight who finds reasons to hang around_ sounded fun, and _Single & sad A is pregnant with someone else's child. B wants them anyway._ is one of my favorite getting-together-during-pregnancy dynamics. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for running this fun exchange!
> 
> Set in a vague fantasy 'verse with not-at-all-historically-accurate dialogue and clothing choices.

Her eyes follow Rheenya's strong arms as Rheenya works, her defined muscles standing out even through the thick fabric of Rheenya's clothes. A blade takes shape beneath the loud pounding of her hammer, perfect and deadly, glimmering with a rainbow of iridescent magic that turns the blade from orange to red to purple, blue, green, more, but that's not what draws Tirae's eyes. It's Rheenya that has always captivated her, since she bought her first sword from her what seems like eons ago now. Rheenya, always Rheenya, with her vibrant orange curls and her sharp green eyes and her strong and capable body.

Tirae indulges for the first time in far too long, letting her eyes travel down from Rheenya's strong arms to the breasts hidden beneath her protective clothes. They were modest handfuls once, but they strain against the leather shield, full and lush now that Rheenya is with child. Further down is the most breathtaking part of all—Rheenya's belly. Before, Rheenya was beautiful. Now? _Gods_. She looks almost _obscene_. How Direirk walked away from Rheenya, how he could stand to leave that loneliness in her lovely eyes, Tirae will never know.

Tirae loves looking at Rheenya's belly. It has grown significantly since Tirae's last visit, from a barely visible protrusion to the small but obvious ripening it is now. It curves gently outward, yet fights against the confines of Rheenya's gear. With time, it will only grow larger, will win its battle against Rheenya's attire and force her into wearing something else.

And now that the war is over, Tirae might get to see it.

Pretending to look at Rheenya's admittedly bountiful and wonderful rear end, or to check out her long, strong legs—she's so much taller than Tirae; it's _delightful_—Tirae whistles lewdly and steps out of hiding as soon as Rheenya sets her hammer aside. Rheenya's lips curl briefly into a smile, then she turns and scowls at Tirae, one hand on her hip, the other on the small swell of her belly.

"'Lo, gorgeous," Tirae says, cracking her most obnoxious smile.

"You again." Rheenya heaves a sigh, but there's a light in her eyes that most people might miss, indulgent and fond. The corners of her pink lips twitch. "Thought the war might turn you into a proper knight, you scoundrel."

"Proper?" Tirae lets out a hearty laugh. "Who wants me to be proper?" Direirk was proper, supposedly, a gentleman knight—a right proper bastard, Tirae thinks, may he rot in the Fires. His and Rheenya's was supposed to be a good match. Then he bailed. Bastard. "A proper knight wouldn't bring you pressies."

"Pressies?" All of Rheenya's feigned irritation falls away, turned to genuine excitement. "What sort of present? Is it chocolate?"

Tirae pulls the slim, sheathed dagger from her hip and holds it out. Rheenya grins. "Better."

"Oh," Rheenya says, delighted and awestruck as she takes it in hand and looks it over. "Oh, this is lovely."

Light catches in the facets of the orange jewels in the dagger's hilt, shining on Rheenya's beautiful face as she holds up the dagger, examining its gleaming blade. They'd reminded Tirae of Rheenya's hair, its fiery hue. It was supposed to be decorative, just a pretty little trinket for someone who appreciated a nice knife, until... "That thing saved my life."

Rheenya's eyes widen. It is a great honor for a knight to gift something like this to someone. Her grip, her touch becomes more reverent. "Oh," she says again, more softly this time. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." Tirae tugs up her shirt, revealing the thick gash on her side, and Rheenya sucks in a tiny, almost inaudible gasp. "Guy tried to gut me like a trout, but I had that, so." She mimes throwing it. "Got scratched up pretty good, but I'm still kicking. Then I got your knife back."

There's a faint sheen in Rheenya's eyes, and she swallows hard, her gaze meeting Tirae's. "Thank you," she says, voice full of emotion.

"I don't like many people," Tirae says, dropping her shirt. "I don't like most people. But while I was out there, I kept thinking about you, and your kid, and I just..." And Rheenya might punch her for what she's about to say, might use that dagger on her—and Tirae will let her, gladly. But she has to say it. "I'm not used to having someone I wanted to come home to, you know?"

"So you—"

"I was probably gonna die out there. Noble, a hero. Then I'd think of how beautiful you are, how I never got to kiss you, how I never got to feel your baby kick or tell you how much it pisses me off that Direirk left you or anything like that, and I..." Tirae shrugs. "It took me a while to figure out why I kept coming around here all the time, why I couldn't stop thinking about you all the time. I'm kind of dumb."

"No," Rheenya says, firmly, pushing the dagger back into its sheath before setting it on the table next to her tools. "You're remarkable. I can't..." She chuckles, shaking her head, and runs her hands over the roundness of her belly. Tirae watches, enraptured by the way Rheenya's long, rough fingers curve over the precious swell—good Gods, she'd never even liked kids before Rheenya got pregnant. Then, Rheenya says, voice soft and shaking with disbelief, "You want me. Even like this? All big and—"

Tirae steps forward, heart pounding, more terrified than when she was staring death in the face, and she splays her hands atop Rheenya's. "I've never wanted anyone more." Then she stands on her toes, and dares to press her lips to Rheenya's.

Rheenya's lips aren't soft—they're cracked and rough, like the scarred hands beneath Tirae's equally callused ones, like Tirae's own thin lips—but her mouth is hot and wet and agile, all hesitance melting away in the heat of _finally_ as she lets Tirae's tongue slip inside. She tastes of salt, of sweat tinged with smoke, of Rheenya. Gods, Tirae's only tasted it once, yet she already thinks she'll never tire of it.

As they kiss, Rheenya's hands slip from beneath Tirae's, move to Tirae's back, tugging her as close as Rheenya's swollen belly allows. A small, pleased moan breaks from Tirae's throat without her permission. Rheenya drinks it down eagerly, and Tirae kisses her harder, not caring as her feet protest standing like this for so long.

Something thumps against Tirae's palm—a kick from the babe in Rheenya's belly. Rheenya breaks away with a breathless laugh. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be." Tirae drops flat on her feet, and turns her attention to Rheenya's belly. Without thinking, she slips her hands beneath the protective leather shield and the thick and sturdy fabric of Rheenya's shirt, finding the warm softness of her skin, the firm roundness of her belly. She's so round. It's incredible. Her belly feels good beneath Tirae's hands, big and beautiful and full of something wonderful, someone who will be wonderful someday. The baby kicks again, more easily felt this way, and Tirae grins. "I like it."

"It's—"

"You're _stunning_," Tirae insists, and leans up to kiss Rheenya again.


End file.
